


Do Not Falter

by enigmaticagentscully



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, evil!Quizzy AU, implied friendships/something more idk read whatever you like into it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:45:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticagentscully/pseuds/enigmaticagentscully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"...there must be other ways to do this. We need you, my dear, you know what will happen if you—”<br/>“He is my responsibility,” said Cassandra evenly. “He is...my friend, or something like it. And I have made my choice.”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A little bit from my evil!Quizzy AU, which I did a scene from in an earlier fic ('Seasons') and wanted to revisit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Falter

* * *

Vivienne jumped a little when Cassandra knocked on the side of her open door to announce her presence. It was a sign of the wretched state in which they all spent their days now that such a simple thing could be enough to ruffle the nerves of Madame de Fer, who had played the grand game with such dignity and ease. Cassandra had no doubt that she kept the door to her rooms open during the day as a show of confidence, so as not to be seen as hiding. It was a futile gesture, belied by the fact that Vivienne had moved into these rooms to be as far away from Skyhold’s main hall as possible in the first place.

But then most people kept themselves to themselves in Skyhold. It was difficult to know who to trust. It didn’t do to draw too much attention.

Vivienne herself looked tired close to; dark shadows faintly visible under her wary, restless eyes. Nonetheless she still held herself with typical poise, and even managed an approximation of a smile when Cassandra walked in.

“How lovely to see you Cassandra.” Her eyes flickered almost imperceptibly to the sword at Cassandra’s side. “Can I do anything for you? It appears you’re planning on going somewhere.”

The implication hovered on the edge of her words _. Going somewhere._ Leaving. Running away. Escape. She would not be the first to attempt it, after all. Cassandra considered for a moment whether it would be easier to let Vivienne believe that to be the truth, if it might be kinder that way, but deception did not come easily to her, especially today.

“I am going to the main hall,” she said. “To see the Inquisitor.”

Vivienne’s jaw set slightly, but she gave no particular outward sign of surprise. Whether this was because she had long since learnt how to conceal her emotions or because she had seen this coming eventually was impossible to say.

“I see,” she said. “Are you sure it’s necessary, my dear? The Inquisitor...she may yet be merciful, on the grounds of previous service to the Inquisition. Remember that she spared Cullen’s life.”

“We have both seen Cullen since his judgement,” said Cassandra, “and we both know that she did not spare him out of mercy.”

 “No, I suppose not.” Vivienne looked slightly sick, and for the first time since Cassandra had known her there was a tremble in her voice when she next spoke:

“Still I...there must be other ways to do this. We need you, my dear, you know what will happen if you—”

“He is my responsibility,” said Cassandra evenly. “He is...my friend, or something like it. And I have made my choice.”

To her credit, Vivienne did not argue further. She merely closed her eyes for a brief moment, and when she opened them again she was once again Madame de Fer, iron and ice, all trace of doubt cast aside.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked.

“Go,” said Cassandra. “Leave the castle at once. After today you will not be given the chance.” She began to pace the room, feeling the odd calm she always did when planning ended and action began. “This isn’t a battle that will be won with blades, but you have influence, people will listen to you. You must move against her and you must move quickly. We have already endured this for far too long.”

Vivienne was already starting to move around the room herself, pulling items from shelves and drawers, tossing them into a small travelling bag. She must have been ready to go at a moment’s notice anyway – Vivienne was not a woman who left much to chance.

“I have spoken to Bull,” continued Cassandra. “His Chargers will buy you the time you need to escape. He will travel with you if he...if he is able to.”

“You trust the Qunari?” said Vivienne, now pulling a plain travelling cloak from her dresser.

“I trust Bull. As much as I do anyone these days. He may fight for coin but he isn’t a fool. He knows what will eventually happen to those like him if this state of affairs continues.” Cassandra hesitated, not sure how to say what she needed to next, and settled on the direct approach on the basis of saving precious time. “One more thing,” she said. “Find Solas if you can.”

Vivienne froze and half turned, her lip curled in disgust. “The apostate?”

“I don’t know what he is,” said Cassandra. “But he saw what _she_ was before any of us, I think. Perhaps even before he brought us to Skyhold, and yet he still...” She dragged a weary hand through her hair. “I cannot explain it. But my heart tells me that he still has some part left to play in this.”

Vivienne was silent for a moment, and then nodded. “Very well my dear,” she said. “I will try to find the elf.”

“Thank you,” said Cassandra. “I must go, I’ve wasted too much time already.” She turned to leave, and was already halfway through the door when Vivienne spoke.

“Cassandra.”

She paused and, to her surprise, Vivienne crossed the room and laid a hand very briefly on her shoulder.

“May Andraste watch over you, my friend,” she said, her face grave.

“And over you as well,” said Cassandra softly. And then she turned and walked from the room, not looking back.

Striding through Skyhold, she forced her mind not to think about what she was about to do. Instead she focused on the crisp spring air in her lungs, the pale icy blue of the sky above, the soft press of the earth beneath her feet as she crossed the courtyard. Up here in the mountains, a world away from the wars that ravaged the lands below, the world was coming to life.

Cassandra almost smiled at the irony of that.

She didn’t hesitate even for a moment as she pushed open the heavy double doors to the main hall, and strode with such purpose down the centre of the room that no-one moved to stop her. There was quite a crowd in here today – many of the faithful had turned out to see judgement be done. Faces reverent and proud, faces grim and frightened, faces blank with the careful mask of necessity; all watched Cassandra as she passed.

The Inquisitor herself lounged on her golden throne at the end of the room, raised above the rest by a few steps jutting out of the stone floor. Her ash pale hair was bound into an intricate woven style at the back of her head, her sharp features impeccably coated in powders and pastes. She was not a tall woman, nor a particularly strong one, but her presence was such that she instantly became the focus of any space she was in. Even without the throne and the furs and the shining golden armour, she would have commanded attention. Cassandra remembered a time when she had admired that about her.

Varric was kneeling on the floor a short distance in front of the throne, his head bowed and his hands bound behind his back with thick rope. There was a guard watching him a little way to the side, but it was clearly unnecessary. Even unbound Cassandra doubted he would have the strength simply to stand.

“We are a little busy, Lady Seeker,” said the Inquisitor in her clear melodic voice, clearly unable to ignore the fact that every eye in the hall had turned to watch Cassandra’s progress down the centre of the hall. “Now is not the time for interruptions. What is it that you want?”

Cassandra nodded towards Varric. “Release him,” she said.

The Inquisitor chuckled humourlessly. “Are you _ordering_ me?”

“I am asking you,” said Cassandra. She came to a stop a respectful distance from the throne, with Varric kneeling about halfway between her and the Inquisitor. She glanced at him; even bound and gagged he was straining his neck desperately around to look at her, eyes wide and fearful. His face was swollen and ugly with bruises, his hair loose and filthy around his shoulders, blood matted into one side from a wound on his temple that no one had troubled to clean. When their eyes met he made an attempt to shake his head. _Don’t do this._

Cassandra looked back at the Inquisitor. “I am asking you,” she repeated. “I will beg, if that is what it takes.”

“It makes no difference,” said the Inquisitor, a touch of coldness creeping now into her voice. “This dwarf is a traitor, one who calculated the escape of another traitor far worse.”

“He saved the woman he loves from torture and death,” said Cassandra. “A woman whose only crime was misjudgement.”

“So you’d question my decision on that as well? Bianca Davri gave our enemy his greatest weapon. She put immense power into the hands of Corypheus for her own selfish gain. And _he_ ” – she stabbed one elegant finger towards Varric – “shares responsibility for the darkspawn abomination’s escape in the first place. And now hers.”

“You will hear nothing in his defence?” said Cassandra.

The Inquisitor shrugged, a sparse, eloquent movement that caused her silvery fur to slip a little from her shoulders. “What defence can there be for betraying the Herald of Andraste?” she said. “He dies by my hand.” It would have been better if she had looked _pleased_ about it, Cassandra thought, or eager for the slaughter. Anything but this air of vaguely bored amusement. “A quick death at least, which is more than he deserves. As a token of our former comradeship.”

“I will not allow it,” said Cassandra.

There were a few seconds of silence that seemed to last a lifetime.

“It isn’t for you to allow,” said the Inquisitor, raising her eyebrows. “The judgement is mine by divine right and you have no say in the matter.”

Cassandra walked forward until she was standing next to Varric. The guards either side of the throne shifted slightly but the Inquisitor held up her hand in a brief gesture to prevent any further action. There was a frisson of movement around the hall, guards and onlookers alike, servants and devotees, the Inquisitor’s mockery of a court all sensing the sharp change in atmosphere.

Cassandra did not look at Varric, slumped by her side. She looked only into the eyes of the woman sitting on the throne.

“I will not allow it,” she repeated.

The Inquisitor sighed, and regarded Cassandra for a while, drumming her long fingernails on the arm of her throne. “You have been a strong ally, Seeker Pentaghast,” she said. “And to this point a loyal one. I would hate to lose your sword, so I give you one last chance to walk away.” She gave a strange little smile. “I owe you a debt, after all. You are the one who put me on this path.”

“Yes,” said Cassandra. “And I pray that one day the Maker will forgive me that terrible mistake. I am sure no-one else will ever be able to.”

The Inquisitor’s expression didn’t change, but her smile did become more fixed, and it seemed to Cassandra that behind her eyes a cold flame burned for a moment – the mad rage within revealed all too swiftly and then shuttered again in an instant.

“Walk away now,” the Inquisitor said softly, “and I may be able to forgive this treachery. I will _not_ forget it.”

Cassandra drew her sword.

The faint metallic sound rang out through the silent hall. The Inquisitor didn’t move a muscle, but simply continued to stare at her, eyes narrowed.

“I see,” she said. “So that’s your answer, is it?” She stood up to stand before her throne on the raised dais. “I’d give you a moment to pray to the Maker, but as you’ve just betrayed his Chosen, I doubt he’d listen to anything you have to say.”

A muffled moan next to her made Cassandra look away for an instant, to see that Varric had somehow managed to force the gag out of his mouth.

“Seeker,” he gasped hoarsely. “Get out of here, please just—”

“I’m sorry Varric,” said Cassandra, “for bringing you into this.”

“ _Please—_ ”

Cassandra raised her blade and charged forward towards the throne.

She heard the guards move, dark shapes leaping from every corner, converging on her as she ran. She could see the Inquisitor standing with her arm raised, oddly beautiful haloed in the light streaming in from the vast stained glass window behind the throne. The sickly green light of her magic filled the air, brightening to a glare that scorched Cassandra’s eyes, but she needed to see nothing but her target. She was hardly aware of her body, the familiar pull of muscle and bone as she leapt, feeling only...release. As she brought her sword down, she thought she saw the Inquisitor smile.

_Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked, and do not falter._

She heard Varric crying out her name behind her as the darkness closed in.

He had never called her by name before.


End file.
